lips. “Yes. As I feared, your legs have been paralyzed.”
His breath hitched.
“It should not be anything that we can’t fix, however,” Shayla said, giving him a warm smile. “I’m going to leave you with Grace here while I go fetch you something to eat. You’re terribly weak.”
With that, Shayla marched out of the room. I noted how she had not been using her magic to leave and arrive. I guessed she didn’t want to lay too much on the man at once. His head was already in a tailspin. I wondered if he had ever encountered witches before.
“Why would they have taken me?” he asked me. “And who were they anyway? Why would they paralyze me? Why do I feel so cold?”
I let out a slow sigh. Where do I even begin? He was still in such a daze right now, I doubted he could handle all the answers—and of course, I didn’t know all the answers anyway.
“I’m not sure why they took you or why they paralyzed you. But those people are part of a, um, kind of research organization. A very ruthless one.”
I was glad when Shayla returned to the room before I could make further headway in my response. She emerged in the doorway, holding a tray filled with a plate of sandwiches, a jug of water and a glass.
Shayla first gave him some water to drink, which he downed readily. Then she handed him the sandwiches. He raised a slice to his lips and took a bite, chewing slowly. He finished the first sandwich, then reached for the next, but as he was halfway through this one, he retched and upchucked all over himself.
“Oh, dear,” Shayla said, hurrying to take away the sandwich plate and clean him up.
I wondered when the last time he’d ingested solid food was.
“All right,” Shayla said, after she had finished cleaning him. She walked over to a closet and returned with a syringe. “I’m going to take a blood sample from you, if that’s okay. I need to begin a full diagnosis. We will try to feed you something again later. Sandwiches were too much of a shock to your system.”
Looking weaker than ever, he allowed her to take his arm. She inserted the needle and filled up the syringe halfway with his blood. Then she left the room again.
He appeared too worn out even to talk after vomiting his guts out. He had a pained expression on his face as he sank back against his pillow. His eyelids drooped. I thought that he might be on the verge of falling asleep, but then he murmured in a low voice, his eyes still closed, “I need more answers.”
I thought back to the questions he had asked me before Shayla entered. I guessed that I could give him a brief overview and try not to go into too many details. And so I began to explain more about the IBSI, as well as supernaturals in general and the state of the world today.
He did not speak a word the whole time, and by the time I was finished with my brief overview, he looked shell shocked.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
He stared blankly at the opposite wall, not acknowledging my question. I hoped I had not just blown his fragile mind. Of course the truth of the world around us was so much to take in, even a watered-down version.
Then Shayla returned to the room again. I wondered whether she had had time to inspect the blood sample yet, but since she did not offer information, I didn’t ask. She took a look at the young man and leaned over to take his temperature and pulse again before turning to me. “I think we should let our guest rest for a while,” she said to me. “Give him some time on his own.”
I nodded before grabbing another blanket, since he was still feeling ever so cold, and placing it over him.
“I’ll be back to check in on you soon,” Shayla said as the two of us headed for the door. “For now, get some rest.”
He didn’t respond.
The two of us left the room, closing the door gently behind us.
Shayla breathed in deep before taking my hand and vanishing us from the spot. We reappeared in one of the apothecaries on the ground floor, where I